#wizard harriet

[wizard-harriet]

Whomever cast DELETE QUEUE on my tower

Beware of my fearsome power

I cast upon thee within the hour

A feeling to make you rather sour

For punishment be a glutton

For brains be made of mutton

May it come swift and sudden

I cast POKE BELLYBUTTON

[dearharriet]

Lover's rock by TV girl and Fred please!! Congrats on 150!!

thank you for the request lovely! i only realized after writing that the twins are born in spring, but we can pretend they’re summer babies for my sake ;( (wc: 1.4K)

The twins’ shared apartment is wearing an unusual intimacy tonight, shadowy and warm, with every window open to let the summer breeze drift through. Your friends are in the kitchen, which is a lovely thing to walk in on.

You’re just grabbing another coke to smuggle back to Fred's room, but you linger for a moment by the fridge. It’s the week of the twins' birthday, which will call for riotous celebration later, but for now they both swear they only want a small gathering of all their best mates. Angelina, Lee, Alicia, Katie, Oliver, and you.

Pressing the cool can to your flushed cheeks, you watch them all laugh, a bit faint with how much you want to remember this moment. It’s a testament to your awful crush on Fred that you pull yourself away at all, slinking down the hall into his room again.

“There you are,” says the man himself, bent over his old record machine. “Thought the girls might’ve persuaded you to abandon me.”

“Almost,” you tell him truly. “It’s hard to get us all together like this anymore.”

“It’ll just be a second,” Fred assures you, sifting through stacks of warped vinyls. “I know it’s in here somewhere.”

You take the moment of distraction to lay yourself out atop his cool bedspread, no doubt quilted by his mother.

“No rush.”

Your change of position takes Fred’s attention, and when he finds you, he can only blink. You stare back at him, feeling shy but not quite willing to show it.

“What?”

Fred shakes his head. “Nothing.”

You watch him resume his task, enjoying the way his shoulders fill out the casual tee he’s donned. All of you have known each other for so long, and yet you can’t quite pinpoint when Fred started looking so mature. It’s like it happened under your nose or overnight, a snap of a change just as you blinked your eyes.

“You’re staring.” Fred looks up to catch you, and you can only press your lips together.

“So?”

Neither you nor Fred seem to understand if this is a defense or an admittance, but the air in the room feels all the hotter for it. His eyes flash with a mischievous impulse you’ve seen a thousand times, and you expect some witty comeback. Instead, he just holds up a flimsy yellow square for you to see.

“Found it.”

Just like that, the moment diffuses, your aching chest deflating. You’re not sure if you’re relieved or disappointed.

“Finally,” you sigh. “Put it on, will you?”

He does, gently setting it into its cradle and starting the spin. By the time the song begins, he’s halfway onto the bed.

“Alright, if you don’t like it, you’re not allowed to tell me. It’s my birthday.”

“I like it already.”

Fred sprawls out on his back beside you, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. You can feel the heat radiating off of him in waves. He shoots a smile your way, boyish and sly. “That’s my girl.”

You try not to read too far into that—Fred says it all the time, and that’s just Fred—but it’s hard with the heat and the soft music. When it comes to feigning indifference, you’re something of a professional, except right now you’re hardly maintaining a regular color.

“I got you something really good for your gift,” you choke, desperate to change the subject.

“Did you, now?” Fred is still looking at you strangely, giddy like he’s waiting for a prank to pan out. Your heart is tumbling in your chest.

“Mhm. I think you’re really gonna like it.”

“I’m sure,” he agrees, his tone dulcet. “I’d like anything you gave me.”

“Oh, come off it,” you scoff breathlessly, cracking like an egg under his attention. Fred’s grin spreads wider, his eyes melting impossibly softer.

“What? I can’t say that?”

You shake your head, truly sick of his teasing.

“No. You’re being a tosser.” Fred’s disbelief rings out of him in a belly laugh. It’s stupid to let it hurt your feelings, but your reactions to Fred have never quite been rational.

“I’m complimenting you, pretty girl.”

The nickname sends a shock of heat through you, equal parts excitement and fury. “You’re making fun.”

“No,” Fred says, and though he’s still wearing a ghost of a smile, his voice is sharp and stern. You can’t bear to look at him, painfully aware of the fact that he’s peering right into the soft center you’ve been harboring for years.

The record plays like a drama now, some sort of cruel irony in its sweeping romanticism singing behind the end of a decade-long friendship.

“I can see you creating a tragedy in your head over there.”

Bracing yourself, you chance a look at Fred. He’s pushed onto one elbow, watching you carefully, knowingly.

“Am not,” you insist.

In response, he only chuckles lightly, like it’s fine that you are and it’s fine that you’re lying about it.

“I don’t play with feelings,” Fred says, “you know that. If I call you pretty, it’s ’cause you are.”

Thinking that can’t possibly be true, you argue, “You play with my feelings all the time.”

“Or you misunderstand me,” he implies, raising his brows, “all the time.”

You blink at him, unsure what to think of that. If Fred liked you, he’s not the type to let it go unsaid. You would know. Surely you would know. Unless, of course, you’ve been a complete fool.

“Really?”

Fred nods, exasperated fondness painted over his features. “Really.”

Covering your face with your hands, you ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Darling, trust me, I tried. You were too cussed to believe me.”

It’s all too much, you can’t believe your own ignorance.

“Fred,” you whine, face flushed for every reason but the heat. He takes your wrists, encouraging your hands down.

“Look, you know now,” he assures you, though he’s still much too amused for your taste, “so you don’t have to worry.”

Your tumultuous heart seems to settle, albeit aching like it’s been mauled by a bear.

“Will you ever forgive me?”

Fred squeezes your wrists as he smiles, and you can’t believe you hadn’t seen it before—the heat in his gaze, the rapt attention. Looking back through years of hazy memories, you realize you can’t pinpoint the beginning of that behavior from him, if there ever was one. Fred has always been Fred, horribly flirty and without boundaries, and you chose to assume he wasn’t serious.

“I’ll forgive you,” he says, “on one condition.”

The pitter-patter of your heart picks up again.

“Yes?”

Leaning close, Fred says, “you have to give me a birthday kiss.”

Your lips twitch with an unbidden smile. “You’re horrible.”

“I’m horrible?” Fred asks, stilling his descent on you. “You won’t do it then?”

“I’ll do it.” As you say so, your hands skirt up Fred’s arms and shoulders to weave into his hair, pulling him closer. “But not because I want to.”

“No,” he breathes, and your senses gather him and only him, “of course not.”

Your lips touch gently, just brushing and feeling against one another. You’re trying very hard not to smile, but it becomes a laborious task when Fred inches deeper, taking your bottom lip between his. After a moment, though, he pulls back.

“One sec,” he says, and slides off the bed.

You watch him move to the record player, which is spinning around the end of the vinyl. You hadn’t even realized it stopped.

“Freddie.”

Both your and Fred’s attention snaps to the door, locking on a very smug looking George. Having no other reference for how you might appear, you look to Fred, and it’s not promising. His lips are smudged pink from your lipstick, and his hair is a mess in the back. It would take an idiot not to know what you two were doing.

Still, George doesn’t object, he just inflates his words with enough self-satisfaction to kill.

“Cake and presents soon. Try to wrap up whatever you’re doing in here.”

Just like that, he’s gone.

Seemingly unfazed, Fred flips the vinyl in his hands and starts it again.

“Shouldn’t we go?” you ask.

Crawling back up the bed, Fred settles into your space again, much closer than before.

“Not yet. Let’s give the b-side a listen.”

+

thank you for reading! xx

masterlist

join the celebration!

[drchucktingle]

classic way

[bisexualbaker]

Five days left in @nerdykeppie's Proud to the Bone 2 campaign! I've signed up for a single pin (because I was weak to too many of the other campaigns), and I am torn over which one to get.

On the one hand, the triceratops pin looks hella rad and is probably my favorite of the designs.

On the other hand, imagine the incredible power of getting a trans pride parasaurolophus pin for the @drchucktingle Harriet Porber reference.

[headspace-hotel]

that reminds me that I actually need to get a physical copy of Trans Wizard Harriet Porber and the Theater of Love. i'm pretty sure i only like 70% finished it because 2021 was when my entire life became a dumpster fire. but from what I remember it was better than the first book.

Harriet and Snabe have possibly the healthiest and most heartwarming relationship of any fictional couple I can think of, and the magic system is arguably more cohesive and interesting than J.K. Rowling's.

[dear-future-ai]

Dear future AI,

A 12 year old creating a Sonic OC

Neil Gaiman writing a gothic pastiche of the Jungle Book

Chuck Tingle writing a parody of Harry Potter

How are any of these any different from contemporary AI webscraping fanfiction sites and literature? The answer: intent.

The twelve year old is showing admiration for a character and media they enjoy probably through rigorous artistic practice.

Neil Gaiman is showing respect to an author he enjoyed in his youth, by paying homage to one of his books.

And Chuck Tingle is mocking the political agenda of an author he despises, by contorting recognizable characters into their cultural antithesis.

Contemporary algorithms cannot achieve this level of mastery, not on their own, and not very well. It cannot make the executive decisions to consider the nuance between parody, pastiche, and plagiarism, nor has motivation and drive of its own.

how to help the WGA on strike

[transbookoftheday]

Trans Wizard Harriet Porber And The Theater Of Love by Chuck Tingle

SPOILERS FOR “TRANS WIZARD HARRIET PORBER AND THE BAD BOY PARASAUROLOPHUS”!

Trans wizard Harriet Porber should be riding high after crafting one of the most powerful spells of all time, a magical effect that brings you exactly what you need, exactly when you need it. Unfortunately, once unleashed upon the world, this spell causes nothing but chaos and is promptly banned. Blacklisted from the wizarding community, Harriet moves to Las Vegas with her bad boy parasaurolophus husband, Snabe, moping around while Snabe performs a musical residency.

But things change when the couple realize another book is starting, a sequel, and soon enough Harriet is rediscovering her love of magic with the help of old friends and mysterious new arrivals. Now Harriet is ready to stage her comeback magic show, affectionally titled The Theater of Love.

Of course, this plan is easier said than done. A mega corporation named Just Kidding Recreation holds sway over all Las Vegas entertainment, using lawsuits and intimidation to squash the competition, and while a hypnotist serpent named The Great Magini insists she’s there to help, it quickly becomes apparent her plans are much more sinister.

Can trans wizard Harriet Porber thwart the dastardly plots of JK Recreation and The Great Magini? Maybe not on her own, but with a group of likeminded friends by her side, Harriet is about to discover the fourth-wall breaking strength of whole communities speaking truth to power and standing up against hate in the name of love.

[mast3r-rainb0w]

[C] 'DATWOO 2017' Style: Harriet Jinjur [OC] in Oz by Mast3r-Rainb0w

A commission I made via DeviantArt, featuring Harriet Jinjur (an original character/OC) interacting with the Scarecrow, Tin Man, Cowardly Lion, and Toto the Dog, and the artwork was drawn in after the 2017 animated series "Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz" artstyle! Enjoy!

[libraryofbaxobab]

February 18, 2024:

This is my first time reading a non-horror work by this legendary author, and I can't think of a better way to describe it than "permission to feel joy." It's a parody, it's silly, and I cackled the whole time. The author commentary was charming, the sex scenes were hot (!), the frequent metahumor was funny (!!), and there was more conflict than I expected from a romance novel. Me? Liking meta, fourth-wall breaks in a novel?? Apparently, it's more likely than I think.

I'm in this book! And so are you! I had a wonderful time reading this

8/10 #WhatsKenyaReading

[rattoenailclippings]

Just saw a tweet about Harriet Porber trans wizard,,,,,,,,

[sophia-sol]

Trans Wizard Harriet Porber and the Bad Boy Parasaurolophus, by Chuck Tingle

A romance novel parody of Harry Potter written in response to jkr’s transphobia. A good-hearted t4t story of trans joy that combines things making no sense with things that are actually wonderful and fascinating worldbuilding (of a world which is distinctly NOT the world of the original hp novels), with delightful fourth-wall-breaking aspects. There are a lot of typos, and the style is very consciously romance-novel-esque with lots of epithets and things, so it took me a bit to get into it, but once I was in I was honestly hooked.

Also the author, Chuck Tingle, is out here on the internet openly being his wonderfully autistic self without shame, and encouraging everyone to live a life that centres love and the knowledge of everyone's intrinsic worth, and I really admire that!

So thanks Chuck. LOVE IS REAL.

[wizard-harriet]

My Only Skeleton War

The only time I saw a skeleton war, I was just an apprentice.

I remember how terrible it was for both sides, and only knowing what I had been told by the Truly Not Corrupt Wizard Council – In Your Best Interest, I still thought it was foolish to engage in a war. I needed to see what was happening behind the scenes. I knew that the Wizard Council was collecting a hefty amount of gold for the war, but the reserves in the tower and the supplies bought did not add up once we got started. During one of my first nights out on the battlefield, I snuck around to the skeleton army rear flank. I was surprised to see dragons driving the skeletons towards the battlefield. I watched and saw that the skeletons did not even want to fight. The wizards did though, they love the skeleton war. When I returned to our encampment, I creeped to the head wizard’s tent, and overheard him talking. “…and of course, the dragons get their cut. They stir up the skeletons, we collect the gold, murder a few skeletons, and we all become richer. And do not forget, with less wizards there will be more room at the table for dinner and more snacks in the pantry. Put Wizard Herbavene on the front lines tomorrow, he keeps eating my toffee. Yes I can summon it, but it is the principle of the thing. Straight to the bone grinder with him, I will…” I had heard enough. Being inexperienced, I was not sure how to proceed, I could barely cast any spells at this time, and I was more of a camp hand. I swore to never participate in another war, and never use my magic for violence. Only good old-fashioned violence with a heavy stick for me. Alas, the war lasted long enough for me to learn some spells, such as RUBBER BONE and DEFLECT PROJECTILE, which I was able to use on both sides of the battlefield to spare lives. In addition to this, I learned DISINTERGRATE. We all had to; it was mandatory. We practiced on the rubbish piles, and once we all got it down we never needed to take the trash out or clean a latrine again. As the war raged on, some wizards began to experience magical reflexes, and would cast spells when they were startled or anxious. Some cast spells in their sleep burning the tents. We could have cast ANTIFLAME on the tents, but the council would not authorize it. They argued that if the camp could not be lit on fire, they would have to deal with the fire brigade union and that was a bureaucratic battle that no wizard wants to enter. That night, the council had a meeting and declared that any wizard who could no longer control their powers was to be disintegrated by the council at the end of the war. Fearing death beyond death, many of these wizards rushed the skeleton line and sacrificed them in spectacularly tragic ways to drive the end of the war. Once the war was decided, or more accurately the dragons had their fill of blood, bone, and gold: the wizard council disintegrated three wizards actively exhibiting reflexive magic, we packed up the camp, and we returned to the tower. What I learned from the war was that war is not a good thing, it is not a solution, and it is often making someone rich who does not care for life. Or unlife….or whatever we class skeletons as. I don’t like calling them undead, they have a rich culture and are excellent drummers. Although this did inspire me to seek out a necromancer later in my career, that is a story for another time.

[foggythoughtz]

today i learned

today i learned that “Trans Wizard Harriet Porber and the Bad Boy Parasaurolophus” is a thing. i’m cackling

[itsackity]

help i was helping my dad with a tape roll, and he goes looking in my trans wizard harriet porber book, opens up on a sex scene, i'm sweating my metaphorical balls off

my man says "you reading erotica?" and i start laughing and saying "nahnah, most of the book is normal but there just so happen to be certain scenes"

then he starts reading some different chapter, puts the book down and now my dad knows what his teen kid reads in her freetime :')

[localmonstersmoocher]

A Short Little Review of "Straight" by Chuck Tingle

[this was cross posted from my Goodreads account]

In certain realms of online culture, Chuck Tingle is a bit of an icon, and this book certainly shows that. For an author who is known for outrageous and funky queer erotica, this novella is a tonal whiplash compared to the rest of Tingle's works that I read and I adored every word.

Taking place in a world where, once a year, the cis straight population goes berserk, wanting nothing more than to tear apart everyone and anyone who falls in the queer spectrum, during an event called Saturation day. The book follows a group of friends from all across the LGBT spectrum, who flee to Joshua Tree to wait out the Saturation Day. But, in true horror novel fashion, things go very wrong very quickly and now this group has to fight for their lives against shitass berserk zombielike cis straight people.

As a member of the queer community, reading this horror novella out of all things was incredibly cathartic. I could feel the frustrations and even the rage of the main character and narrator, Issac, a bisexual man just trying to survive in a world that wants to literally tear him apart. As someone who is bisexual myself and often questions my place in the queer community, I saw myself in Issac, as someone who just wants to stop hiding, to feel validated and accepted by a community he loves, and to be unapologetically himself, bisexuality and all. Hell, I even teared up a bit at the end when Tingle wrote, "I now know our survival is not predicted on the conditional help of fair-weathered allies, or even the rock-solid kindness of outsiders who put in the work. We've made it this far because of each other". Who knew that it would be a little horror novella that would make me emotional.

Also not to mention I adored all the characters and fell in love with all of them within the span of a few pages. That is when you know that there is some pretty good writing afoot. I loved Jason, Issac, Hazel, and Nora were a treat to follow and I rooted for them the entire ride. It was fun to see these four people, all with different backgrounds, sexualities, and experiences coming together as one to help each other, lift each other up, and make sure everyone gets out alive. I didn't care much for Brandon though, he was, as Nora put it, a "Typical straight ally".

Maybe I'm taking this book too seriously due to my personal experiences and background, but I still believe that this novella is worth the read. It doesn't matter if you're straight and cis or tans and gay, it's a good story, a fun story, and it's only 122 pages so its a fairly quick read. No skin off your back. And yes, while there are some grammatical errors in this book, it's not so distracting as to take you out of the experience. Honestly, with the amount of indie-published books I've read in the past, a few grammar mistakes here or there is kind of unavoidable in certain cases. Hell, I'm no grammar expert myself, so I wouldn't be surprised if there were a few more I didn't pick up on while being sucked into the story.

Remember, stay unapologetically yourself buckaroos! <3

(next on my list is Trans Wizard Harriet Porber bc fuck J.K. Rowling's terf ass)

[harrietpotterandthedemigods]

Mrs. Hudson was not their housekeeper, but they appeared to need one.

Harriet Potter, Son of Athena, the Slytherin Prince, ch 2; Sherlock toasts someone’s eyeballs